


We'll Think of Something

by AndiiErestor



Series: Oracle of Imladris [11]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: B2MEM 2019, Blood, Erestor does the shapeshifting thing, M/M, Miscarriage, Piercing, Screw it - Freeform, This will hurt, but bad things happen anyway, gross descriptions of period and possibly afterbirth, i'm hurting and i want them to have something pretty, not taking actual logical physics and time periods into account, this fic is strictly about the miscarriage and its repercussions, this is not a happy fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 15:34:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18264248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndiiErestor/pseuds/AndiiErestor
Summary: B2MEM 2019 prompts - B9- "You aren't the person I thought you were."- Candlelight- Sexual Deviance- TortureB2MEM 2019 prompts - B15- Dehydration- Someone surfaces from your character's past.B2MEM 2019 prompts - I25- Something breaks in the next 500 words.- Symbolism- Hair-brushing- SuicideB2MEM 2019 prompts - N32- Irony- "And realized it was all she ever wanted."B2MEM 2019 prompts - N44- A background conflict becomes more important than you thought.- Fall on your kneesB2MEM 2019 prompts - N45- The Grass WidowB2MEM 2019 prompts - G50- "I wonder if she's as stubborn as I am."B2MEM 2019 prompts - G57- Blood-loss- "I won't."B2MEM 2019 prompts - O66- Illness





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dalandel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dalandel/gifts).



> B2MEM 2019 prompts - B9  
> \- "You aren't the person I thought you were."  
> \- Candlelight  
> \- Sexual Deviance  
> \- Torture  
> B2MEM 2019 prompts - B15  
> \- Dehydration  
> \- Someone surfaces from your character's past.   
> B2MEM 2019 prompts - I25  
> \- Something breaks in the next 500 words.  
> \- Symbolism  
> \- Hair-brushing  
> \- Suicide  
> B2MEM 2019 prompts - N32  
> \- Irony  
> \- "And realized it was all she ever wanted."  
> B2MEM 2019 prompts - N44  
> \- A background conflict becomes more important than you thought.  
> \- Fall on your knees  
> B2MEM 2019 prompts - N45  
> \- The Grass Widow  
> B2MEM 2019 prompts - G50  
> \- "I wonder if she's as stubborn as I am."  
> B2MEM 2019 prompts - G57  
> \- Blood-loss  
> \- "I won't."  
> B2MEM 2019 prompts - O66  
> \- Illness

The high afternoon sun peeked through the thin curtains to illuminate the cottage. Erestor hummed and kept one hand pressed to his stomach as he walked back and forth in the little kitchen, preparing a few ingredients for the night’s dinner. It was a good day and though he had been reluctant to let Glorfindel head off to the fields that day, he was grateful for the time if afforded him alone – ever was Glorfindel in his  _way_  when Erestor fretted about the kitchen.

Memories of the day he’d told Glorfindel that they’d created life filtered back to him as he worked. They had waited some time before binding, wanting to make the most of their engagement first – to get to know each other well and truly before their souls became inseparable. As such, they’d felt perfectly comfortable on the very night of their binding to beg the greatest symbol of their love combined. And lo and behold, they’d succeeded.

Glorfindel was ecstatic when Erestor had shared the news with him – though barely more than a day later. His grin had threatened to take over his face and had outshone the sun – at least in Erestor’s eyes. Their union was a thing of miracles in Erestor’s mind, having never dared to dream that Glorfindel would be returned to him, much less that their interrupted fate could be renewed. Having spent so many years alone, he had simply assumed the rest of his days would be this way whether he wished it or not – had made peace with it too.

His bliss at meeting Glorfindel for the first time was short-lived, as he realized that while he had remembered – all these years – their correspondences and the final moments of Glorfindel’s first life, the blonde hardly remembered them. His memories returned quickly, however, as though someone whispered to him the story of his previous life as he slept – the clearest images were those he’d have most vividly recalled in the first place. As such, though Glorfindel recalled seeing Erestor, and having known him to be the elf he’d corresponded with, he’d not remembered any details more than that.

This was why they took their time – Glorfindel falling in love with Erestor anew, as Erestor invited him to. Their romance was a slow budding one, but the most honest and true Imladris had ever known – surpassing even that of their Lord and Lady, whose marriage was at least in part political. So it was that when they were bound, it was with no hesitation, no secrets, and with the clear intention of producing a child.

Erestor had changed, as was his way during the week of the full moon each month – for no particular purpose than personal preference really. Glorfindel had met him in the glade and together they’d danced together,  _sky clad_ , around the fire, for hours and hours until the fire withered and went out, until the finally retired to the small cottage hidden in the forest where Erestor made his home.

Together they retired to the bedroom and lay in loving embrace for hours yet, one occasionally overtaking the other, but always equal. Eventually they fell asleep, the sheets a bloody mess around them but caring not for such simple, earthly troubles when their bodies hardly felt  _of_  it in the moment.

They’d awoken in the late afternoon, having only fallen asleep as the sun rose. Elrond was all in a tizzy wondering what might have happened to his captain and his counsellor – for really, it was rude of them not to send word as they had always done. Yet as they both finally approached him, hand in hand, with some otherworldly glow on their cheeks and a smile on their lips, he knew – before he’d even heard their voices.  _United_.  _One._

And one they’d created as well, the one Erestor now hummed to as he strutted around the kitchen, carrying carrots and potatoes and peppers and beans. Meat they’d forgone the past few days as their little one seemed upset with it, causing Erestor several times, to expel the contents of his stomach the same way they’d entered it.

At least now they knew to avoid it.

This was also why Erestor had taken to cooking his own meals in the cottage, as opposed to joining folk in the hall of fire. There, meals were often based on what was in highest demand, and therefore usually what there was most stock of. During hunting season, this meant lots of meats.

As Erestor prepared the meal, he wondered if Glorfindel would have time to stop by the seamstress on his way home after practice today, or if he’d dropped the other off earlier this morning. There was no need to rush, of course. He wouldn’t be needing those robes this week, maybe not even this month, but he knew how early some people liked to send their requests for yuletide outfits, and this was admittedly a  _little_  more pressing than a new dress for a single night. If he outgrew his clothes before then, he’d be home-bound. While the thought wasn’t unappealing to him, he  _did_  intend to continue his duties as Elrond’s personal advisor for the duration of the pregnancy – or as much as he could manage.

He’d asked Glorfindel to take the detailed slip to the seamstress hoping his lover would finally forgive himself for the mistake done months ago.

Erestor rubbed his belly in reassurance as he recalled that fateful day.

Glorfindel, having been ever so delighted at the news of their conception, had immediately begun planning a nursery – with Erestor’s consultation. The bookshelves and the small desk in the second bedroom of the cottage were left there, but moved aside. Slowly but surely, new furniture began to fill the room. First a chest of drawers – a simple thing Glorfindel had brought from his own rooms, where most of his things still resided as they had decided that having both spaces available to them was an asset – then a rocking chair, and finally – by Glorfindel’s own hand – a bassinet, with an ocean of stars carved into the base.

That same night, Erestor had called Glorfindel outside, where he’d set up a collection of dried flowers and spices, a glass jar, and a single white candle. The purpose of this, he’d known his lover would not completely understand, but the meaning was simple. It was a blessing –  _protection_  – which they would keep in their child’s room until their arrival.

First the rose petals, then a few leaves of sage, several other ingredients, and finally, the candle was placed on top and left to burn out, thereby combining all the elements into one. Erestor had smiled and kissed Glorfindel’s cheek, handing him the jar and requesting that the blonde take the item inside and place it wherever he felt most appropriate.

Glorfindel held the jar so carefully, it was therefore a surprise to Erestor – still cleaning up outside – when he heard a loud crash, followed by loud cursing. He ran inside and was dismayed to find Glorfindel, kneeling before the bassinet, nursing a finger, and surrounded by shards of broken glass.

Erestor immediately stole the broom from its hidden corner by the waste bin in the kitchen and scrambled over to where Glorfindel sat, making sure he wouldn’t move. Erestor swept around Glorfindel in circles, glad to note as he worked that other than the cut on his finger, Glorfindel seemed uninjured.

“I’m so sorry,” Glorfindel whispered when Erestor finally set the broom aside and knelt before him, “I don’t know what got over me. It was so clumsy of me. We can try again tomorrow, or next month. I know sometimes you need to be very specific with these things…”

Content to let him ramble on, Erestor simply watched with soft eyes and a lazy smile as Glorfindel worked himself into a panic. Erestor placed a hand on the blonde’s shoulder and squeezed lightly, bringing him back to himself.

“You don’t want to,” Glorfindel concluded.

Erestor shook his head.

“What if…”

Erestor made a wiggly motion with his fingers, into the air, as of something flying away – which Glorfindel took to mean that the effort had been made, and what would be, would be.

However, that had been two months ago, and Erestor hadn’t heard the end of it. Glorfindel, feeling utterly terrible had offered time and time again to make it up to him somehow. Erestor had never known him to be so stubborn, but clearly this meant a lot to him, and he’d finally given in, allowing the blonde to complete this one task for him.

Erestor shook his head and went to continue his work, but the knife he’d been using fell out of his hand and clattered to the ground as he was suddenly struck by a pain so intense it pulled him to his knees and tore a shout of horror from deep within his lungs. He clutched at his stomach with both hands, desperately trying to regain his breath, but Erestor could feel his heartbeat hammering away in his chest as he took in short, panting breaths.

Across the valley, Glorfindel was nearly struck in the head by a thankfully-wooden sword when he was suddenly overtaken by this awful, gut-wrenching pain. He felt it squeezing his head until it made him nearly blind, and in his gut as though he’d been slashed open by a poisoned orc blade.

“Are you alright, lord Glorfindel?” his comrades asked, but he would offer them no answer as he quickly scrambled to hand his own practice sword to his second in command and sprinted from the field toward his new home – toward the other half of his soul.

Alone and in pain, Erestor had managed to get his breathing somewhat under control, but the pain still tore at his midsection. Despite this, he still attempted to stand, pulling himself up on his knees, then on one foot, before the pain had him doubled over again. His horror took the form of a deep red puddle as he felt the blood seeping down his legs and gathering beneath him. It was too much. He needed help, and he needed it  _fast_.

Finally Glorfindel burst through the door, calling for him, but Erestor could do naught more than groan from behind the counter. Glorfindel ran to him, brushing back his hair, and kissing his temple before taking him up in his arms and rushing back out the door – with no thought to shut it – taking Erestor to the halls of healing. All the while, blood steadily made its way through Erestor’s clothes and onto Glorfindel’s –  _drip drip dripping_  to the ground behind them.

Elves rushed out of the way as Glorfindel rushed by them with Erestor in his arms. He normally would have paid more attention to the looks of horror on their face, been more careful, taken more time to cover up the disaster, but there was no time. Erestor was bleeding out, in pain, clutching at Glorfindel’s shoulder and crying out.

Glorfindel was thankful for the single elf who ran ahead at the sight of them, presumably to inform the healers. It wasn’t much farther, but the road there felt never-ending. Glorfindel nearly slipped going down the steps at the end of the hall, his soft boots being soaked in blood. Elrond was already there waiting when they arrived and Glorfindel hoped the other knew about Erestor’s  _situation_  or this would be increasingly difficult for all of them.

“What’s happened?” Elrond asked as he led them to the farthest room – private,  _thank the Valar_  – where healers were hastening about, taking out old linens, ointments, salves, medicines of any kind and all the tools Elrond himself might need – as it was clear he intended to care for Erestor himself.

“He’s – I don’t know. I was on the field and I felt such a  _pain_ , Elrond,” Glorfindel’s voice trembled as he spoke, “He’s lost so much blood, I fear for…”

It was then, looking up at Elrond – into his caring eyes – that Glorfindel realized Elrond really had no idea. Erestor must have kept it from him, or simply  _not said_  – as he tended to do with things that weren’t of immediate importance.

“I fear for our child, Elrond,” Glorfindel said, and hoped Elrond would know what to do. “It hasn’t been half a year, I fear losing them – losing them both.”

Elrond spared a single breath to the overwhelming confusion before he was once again swallowed by the hurry of a life being at stake.

“Out, all of you,” Elrond urged, “Fetch my sons, quickly.”

And Glorfindel was immediately thankful for Elrond’s quick assessment. Of  _course_  the half-elf would know immediately that if he hadn’t known of this development, it meant Erestor had wished to keep it private. If he weren’t so worried, he might have hugged him.

“Glorfindel I need you to place Erestor on the bed –  _gently! –_ and fetch that pail of water over there,” Elrond pointed to the water spigot in the corner of the room as he placed several linens on the lower half of the bed.

Glorfindel did so, painstakingly prying Erestor’s clutching fingers from his tunic, kissing his forehead and hurrying to fetch the pail. He placed it at the foot of the bed and nearly spilled the thing over, before returning to Erestor’s side, allowing his lover to squeeze his hand tightly and cry into his shoulder.

“Explain this to me, quickly,” Elrond demanded as he finally began removing Erestor’s light trousers, cutting through them with sharp scissors, and pulling the fabric away, revealing Erestor’s swollen stomach, and his bloodied privates.

Barely raising a brow, Elrond spared a single cloth for Erestor’s modesty, before taking hold of one leg and placing a lightly swollen foot on the edge of the bed, then the other. All the while Glorfindel attempted to explain what was even to him  _beyond_ him.

“He does this sometimes,” Glorfindel tried, “Not bleeding out, but  _changing_. We –  _He_  – I think it is a sacred experience for him, but it also means he can conceive.” How was he truly meant to explain someone else’s body? Though he supposed he was truly the only person other than Erestor who could do so.

“That is enough,” Elrond nodded, “Then his body for all intents and purposes is that of a woman’s?”

“Aye, I believe so,” Glorfindel agreed. “I do not know how…”

“That won’t matter if this is truly what I believe it to be,” Elrond shook his head sadly. “Where are those –“

Elladan and Elrohir burst through the door, interrupting their father and hurrying around the room, washing their hands under the cold water at the spigot and pulling on a healer’s robe over their own clothes.

“What can we help with ada?”

“What do you need?”

_Let me change that linen._

_I can help clean him while you make that sleeping tea._

_Let us help father. We are here now._

The boys only asked for what information was necessary, and once again Glorfindel thanked the Valar for their calm and poise and respect for their tutor. Confusion was rampant, but their desire to save him incomparably greater. A good thing, for Erestor had since their arrival stop screaming and seemingly fallen into a troubled sleep.

His whimpers of  _no_  and  _please_  and  _broken_  and  _accident_  tore at Glorfindel’s heart, for Erestor’s pain was his own. How they had wished for this, and how  _grateful_  they had been, with even Glorfindel joining Erestor in offering thanks. What could they have possibly done to deserve this? Tears ran down his face as Elrond and his sons worked beyond his sight. Glorfindel could barely see past the veil of tears in his eyes.

At Elrohir’s mournful gasp, Glorfindel shut his eyes tightly and pressed his own face into Erestor’s neck, cradling the darkling’s head in his hand.  _I’m so sorry_ , Glorfindel cried out to him, feeling for all the world as though it were his own fault.  _I am here, my love_.  _Please, Erestor. Awaken._

He could hear Elrond and the twins shuffling around the room, pausing often in uncertainty, and whispering to each other of what might be done. Glorfindel wished he could hear none of it for their words were torture. He knew their child would not be saved – could not be – and he felt the loss tear at his soul as surely as Erestor did.

“It’s too big for that,” he heard Elladan say, “Perhaps…”

“No,” Elrohir replied, “We can…”

“Let us simply…”

Elrond approached the bed and began cleaning up Erestor a final time, handing blood-soaked linens to his sons for disposal. Elladan took them quietly, along with those previously discarded, and left the room as a ghost, letting in the sound of hushed murmuring from the hall before the door was shut.

Moments later, Elrond placed a gentle hand on Glorfindel’s back, “We will wait for Erestor to awaken,” he said calmly. “He will live, Glorfindel. He is strong, but you will have to be there for him.”

“You mean, like I wasn’t there before?” Glorfindel’s own words turned against himself.

“No,” Elrond shook his head and knelt beside him, though not urging the blonde to turn, “That is not what I mean and you know it. Tragedies happen and they are out of our control. There is nothing you could have done that would have stopped this hell from happening.”

Glorfindel lifted his head and met Elrond’s gaze, eyes red-rimmed and cheeks a bright passionate pink, “We were so happy,” he said with gravel in his throat, “Erestor so wanted a child – always has I think – and now…”

“Yes,” Elrond nodded gravely, “Now…”

He stayed by Glorfindel’s side for a while longer, watching as Elrohir brought along the tea finally and patiently attempted to have Erestor sip at it. It took a while, but Erestor began to drink. Glorfindel kept brushing a stubborn hair from his lover’s face in the meantime.

Elrond continued softly, “Now we shall place the… babe,” he took a breath, “by the window there. I do not know if it is a comfort to you, but if you chose to look up i- them… They are developed enough to resemble a babe – if very small.”

Glorfindel nodded but remained silent. He glanced over at the bassinet shape by the window, but looked away even faster, seeing Elladan then placing the– the  _remnants_  of their child in the crib, not yet ready to see what they had lost so soon.

“Please call for me if he wakes, my friend,” Elrond asked of Glorfindel, and the blonde nodded. “I shall have Elladan fetch you a meal later. This pitcher here is for you as much as for Erestor. I cannot have either of you dehydrated now. Do try to take care of yourself as best you can. I shall see that your duties are taken care of.”

Glorfindel nodded again, barely registering Elrond’s words.

As the three left the room, he caught Elrohir mentioning Erestor’s clothes and shook his head ruefully.  _To be thinking of something so trivial now…_

As soon as the door was shut, Glorfindel painstakingly pulled himself from Erestor – his muscles stiff now from all the strain he’d been putting on them – and shuffled to shut the heavy curtains. Nothing like the new curtains they’d purchased for the baby’s room. They were dark, but meant to still let some of the light in. Erestor was  _so_  fond of the moonlight.

Glorfindel carefully avoided gazing down into the crib, though it broke his heart to do so - to think he was avoiding his own child. He went to the spigot and the now-clean bucket in the corner of the room and pulled his clothes off, tossing them in a pile somewhere they wouldn’t get soaked though it was useless. They would be ruined after this. He scrubbed only his hands, stomach, and thighs where most of the blood had been and returned to Erestor’s side. Then seeing the distress on his lover’s face, he carefully peeled the clean covers back and climbed in with him, falling quickly into a deep but troubled sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

When Erestor finally awoke, it had been three days. Glorfindel had been keeping him hydrated with the tea Elrond would prepare twice daily, though he’d been unable to get him to ingest anything more substantial. The blonde had been run ragged in trying to figure out what their best course of action was.

The babe had been buried, although temporarily – in a shallow grave in their own garden – until he could speak to Erestor himself. He’d made a point of revisiting the seamstress to let her know they wouldn’t be needing the robes he’d ordered only a few days prior – thankful she’d had other projects to complete first. He’d even visited the training fields to thank this second-in-command, only for the other to reprimand him for leaving Erestor and tell him to get back because he “looked like he could use some rest.” Glorfindel would have laughed if the words hadn’t been so true.

He’d spent all his time by Erestor’s side, though refusing the offer of an additional bed being brought in. Elrond had stayed with Erestor the few times Glorfindel had managed the strength to walk, including when Glorfindel went to the cottage to fetch them both some clothes, only to break down in the babe’s room, having caught sight of it from the front door when he entered.

It was no surprise then that when Erestor opened his eyes, finally, and stated more than asked, if the babe had passed, that Glorfindel broke down once more. His head fell from where it had been perched on his palm, to the crook of Erestor’s elbow.

“I’m so sorry, my love,” he sobbed, “I couldn’t do anything.”

And Erestor, sweetest Erestor, with his mind so full of what secrets Glorfindel still couldn’t quite grasp, pressed a cool hand to Glorfindel’s cheek and lifted his face up for a kiss.

“You are not to blame, my sun,” Erestor spoke slowly, as though the words hurt him, and Glorfindel rushed forth to refill the cup of tea.

Erestor took the cup with shaking hands, and brought it to his lips but found that he trembled too much to drink so Glorfindel helped him, holding the cup as Erestor drank from it.

That day was long, and few words were spoken.


	3. Chapter 3

Erestor spent many days in the halls of healing. He struggled to see when the sun shone too bright, and asked for the curtains to be shut more often than not. He inquired on the whereabouts of their child and nodded solemnly when Glorfindel told him, though there seemed to be a touch of affection to his grim expression, as though he approved of Glorfindel’s choice.

When he was finally permitted to return home, Erestor initially refused. He chose instead to stay in Glorfindel’s old rooms, thankful for the space away from the cottage – and Glorfindel was painfully aware that Erestor was avoiding their home as much as he.

It was many days before they were both well enough to return home. Glorfindel worried that Erestor would crash once more after entering, but it seemed that Glorfindel having shut the door to the nursery would be enough for now. They had no belongings in that room that were of immediate need, and were glad to leave it be.

Erestor, however, would still struggled. He would wake in the middle of the night speaking a language unfamiliar to either of them, but always the name was the same – the name of their child. He would spend his days sitting listlessly staring into the flames of the hearth, barely hearing the world around him, with his hands on his empty stomach.

It was on one of these days, on a dark afternoon in the growing warmth of spring, that Glorfindel noticed Erestor’s condition.

As Glorfindel approached the bed Erestor hadn’t left all day with a candle, he noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the ashen colour of his skin. Erestor had always been fair-skinned, more so than Elrond, but this was not a natural development. That was not to mention how his cheeks were beginning to seem almost hollow.

This came after two months of being home – two months of sitting about and letting himself be numb. Glorfindel could hardly stand it anymore. He placed the small candle on the bedside table and knelt at Erestor’s side, urging his lover to face him.

“I need you to change back, my love,” Glorfindel said, and Erestor furrowed his brow in confusion.

“The first thing you did, before you even woke up, was change into this form. You haven’t changed back since then, but my love, the moon has come and gone twice since then,” Glorfindel implored, “I cannot claim to know your body better than yourself, but something is desperately wrong.”

Erestor stares ahead at him as though Glorfindel’s face holds the answer to all his questions, but says nothing – _of course he says nothing_ – and Glorfindel gets angry.

His heart was broken too, when their child passed, and fear had been his constant companion since.

“You are the brightest star, the love of my life, my other half,” Glorfindel spoke with a pain in his throat, “I have loved you in two lifetimes and I will love you in as many as I am given. I will care for you and love you as no other knows better than I how you like to eat berries by the river and how you like to warm your feet by the fire in the evening with a good book and myself as a pillow.”

Glorfindel cleared his throat and pushed on, though his eyes began to sting, “I cannot _begin_ to explain the pain I felt when I found you on the floor, in a pool of your own blood. I cannot _begin_ to apologize for not being there, though I will forever wonder “If I’d been there, would our child have lived?” I cannot _begin_ to tell you how horrifyingly _alone_ I have felt these past weeks – _months_ – as I have made sure our replacements are still working, and the seamstress has cancelled our orders, at the smiths, and the jewelers.”

Tears finally fell from his eyes and he began to beg, “ _Please_ , my love. Please just tell me how I can help. Do you want me to clear out the nursery and return it to how it was before? Do you need me to take you out of the house? I can do that. Do you need a sleeping draught? I can ask Elrond for a recipe, no doubt we have all the herbs we might need.”

Glorfindel got off his knees and sat on the edge of the bed, needing to feel _closer_ somehow, and took Erestor’s hand, “I feel…” A choked sob escaped him but he held back the next with his free hand, “I feel as though I cannot reach you – as though you have fallen away from me, rejoined the stars in the sky where I cannot follow. I have loved you in Death, and I would do so again, but… My love, forgive me for being so selfish – when I have already put this weight on your shoulders – I do not want to live without you. I _could_ not. Yet every morning when I wake and see that you awake later and later, when I see that your eyes are shut in sleep and glassed when the sun rises, I feel that you are far away.”

He leaned forward and pulled Erestor up to meet him ever so slightly, pressing his face to Erestor’s neck, “I don’t want to lose you, Erestor. I fear that… I don’t want you to _fade._ ”

Erestor blinked, slowly, and tilted his head forward to lay it on Glorfindel’s shoulder, “I won’t.”

And Glorfindel knew it to be true.


	4. Chapter 4

That night, Erestor had agreed to make the change, and that week saw the heaviest flow he’d experienced since he’d developed this ability to change. They suspected that it was not only from Erestor not having changed, but given its consistency, that there might have been more _to_ it, but there was little they could do about it. Glorfindel wondered if it might be of use for the garden, which Erestor eventually agreed would be a good place for it.

By the end of that week, Erestor had made up his mind.

They would allow themselves time to mourn _after_ the fact, and they would have many years to do so.

Though Glorfindel doubted what they prepared to do would comfort them much, he understood that it was what Erestor wanted, and understood the explanation then provided to him, that it would release their child’s soul from its earthly bonds. So he helped to gather the firewood, and helped to set up the pyre.

He wondered briefly if they should ask Elrond to be there, but decided against it. He would understand.

So it was, that on the last of seven days, Erestor and Glorfindel _dug up_ what remained of their child, and carried it to the pyre in the meadow where stone and wood and flowers and herbs awaited.

The fire was lit and left to burn, until the sun rose again and set and rose again – and Erestor was himself again. When naught was left but ashes, they were gathered with utmost reverence and place in a small container, which was then reburied, though this time, apart from the garden.

They buried their child behind the cottage, by an old oak tree Glorfindel sometimes liked to climb, and where Erestor installed a hammock for reading in the shade when summer came. And on that grave, Erestor placed a root of celandine – the golden flower. As it had grown over Glorfindel’s grave, so too would it grow on their child’s.

And then – _then_ – they allowed themselves to mourn.


	5. Chapter 5

For one thousand years, Glorfindel and Erestor mourned the loss of their child. Glorfindel dedicated himself to his work, but his guilt was slow to ease and slower to fade, thus his days were short and his trips away few and far between. As for Erestor, he dedicated himself to Elrond as always, but his heart was yet heavy and his mind weighed down by the emptiness he still felt most days.

When at last, the thousandth had come, Erestor pulled Glorfindel aside to their garden – to the small area behind their home, now surrounded by yellow flowers – where their favourite oak tree grew, and began to dig.

Glorfindel was confused as to what Erestor hope to find, so many years later, but understood as Erestor pulled out a small rock. No larger than the tip of a finger, Glorfindel wasn’t quite certain what it was, but Erestor seemed pleased with what he’d found.

The earth was replaced and the flowers left in peace as Erestor took the little rock inside and showed Glorfindel a very old book they hadn’t replaced in far too long. The handwriting was barely visible, but the idea was clear – with enough pressure, ash could be turned to crystal. Then Erestor held out his hand once more and Glorfindel understood.

All this time, their child grew yet unseen.

Glorfindel could have cried with joy at this revelation, but settled instead for pulling Erestor into his arms for a kiss.

Together they struggled and though they had initially wished to learn the craft themselves, it seemed that smithing was a gift neither of them possessed. And while they both were weary of letting another do this for them, it seemed it would be the only way.

Therefore after a year had passed, and on the day of the begetting of their child – with the help of a very patient jeweller willing to have every moment of their work observed – Erestor pulled out a new tool kit he’d kept hidden, as well as the several pieces of jewellery. First, he replaced the pieces already in place. Glorfindel’s jewels were removed and the old gold rings he’d worn for the past few hundred years were now exchanged for mithril with small, shining white gems framing his nipples.

The third piece, Erestor kept for himself. The procedure would no doubt cause some level of discomfort, but nothing compared to what they had already suffered, and Glorfindel would be there.

With help, Erestor managed to pinpoint the correct spot – the center of his chest, not _quite_ below the breasts – and created a minuscule incision, where the mithril piece was then inserted. It was the first procedure of its kind he had performed, and knew not how long it would take to heal, but he was happy for it.

Glorfindel smiled as he criss-crossed a thin strip of linen over and across Erestor’s chest. Unorthodox as their methods were, he was glad for them, for their child would be with them now, forever.

That evening they sat by the Bruinen and shared berries and splashed water at each other, though in Glorfindel’s case, carefully considering his aim for Erestor’s new addition.

And that night they sat by the fire, with Erestor warming up his feet and leaning against Glorfindel, reading until he fell asleep.


End file.
